


it's not agoraphobia (just a lack of air supply)

by polaroidsandpeachtea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depressed Miya Atsumu, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Miya Atsumu Needs a Hug, Miya Atsumu-centric, Miya Osamu is a Good Brother, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Protective Sakusa Kiyoomi, Protective Team, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sakusa Kiyoomi has OCD, Soft Sakusa Kiyoomi, Song: Agoraphobia (Autoheart), Supportive Miya Osamu, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Therapy, assholes to lovers, but like, i promise this isn't as angsty as it sounds, literally just a mention, marked mature for later chapters, mentions of anorexia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28817295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polaroidsandpeachtea/pseuds/polaroidsandpeachtea
Summary: "I'm Sakusa Kiyoomi, I have obsessive compulsive disorder, and my main outlet is volleyball, I s'pose. I play for MSBY."It was Atsumu's turn, then, and he hurriedly rose to his feet, knocking his chair back a couple inches in the process. "My name is Miya Atsumu, accordin' to the paperwork I have bipolar depression. Uh, my outlet is also volleyball. I also play for MSBY."--Or: Appearances are everything, too bad Atsumu's was ruined with the one person it mattered most the second Osamu brought that damn pamphlet home.Loosely inspired by the song Agoraphobia by Autoheart.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 118





	1. just one meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Atsumu's struggles throughout this are inspired by but not directly based off my own experiences with bipolar depression. There will be a point in this story where Atsumu's mental state takes a turn for the worse, that chapter will have any warnings in the notes that may apply.  
> There will be religious themes, but there will be no homophobia or other forms of bigotry. All religious themes and references are passive and exist purely because of the nature of the meetings Atsumu and Sakusa attend.

"It's just one meeting, 'Tsumu. Just go to one meeting." Osamu sighed in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"No!" Atsumu was very obviously annoyed, lips curled into a snarl and eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not goin' to some loony bin, 'Samu. I'm not crazy, I don't need to go."

"I never said you were crazy, but you need to talk about this-whatever it is-with someone."

"I'm takin' the medicine, 'Samu, isn't that enough?" Atsumu dropped down into a chair, slumped forward with his elbows on his knees.

"I'm glad you're takin' your medicine, that's definitely an improvement, but your doctor said this could really help you." Osamu takes the chair across from Atsumu, face twisted into a concerned grimace. "I don't want it to get as bad as it got last year. It's not like I'm askin' you to make some sorta commitment or somethin', 'Tsumu. Just one meeting. If you hate it you don't have to keep goin', and I won't bring it up again."

Atsumu groaned, burying his face in his hands. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he sighed and nodded his head slightly. "Yeah, alright. Whatever. I'll go to the stupid meeting if it'll get you off my ass."

"Good. Go mope with strangers instead of me, fuckin' asshole." Osamu stands and walks off after that, smacking the side of Atsumu's head for good measure. 

\--

That was the moment that led Atsumu here, to a goddamn _church_ , days before he had his first practice of the season. He took a deep breath and stepped inside, following the signs that pointed him toward the room where the meeting was being held. 

Though he felt out of place, Atsumu supposed that he could suffer through one meeting. He refused to meet anyone's eyes as he walked through the room. It's not that he was _shy_ , Miya Atsumu is many things and shy is not one of them. Every person he glanced at had a weird sort of sad look, like they would say they were fine if you asked but the second you pointed out anything about them they would break down. He didn't want to be roped in with them, he wasn't some perpetually sad shell of a person. He was Miya fuckin Atsumu, goddamnit.

His excellent plan of hiding was thwarted when a girl approached him, "Hey. You're new, right?"

Atsumu winced and turned to face the woman, "Yeah. Why?"

"No reason, just hadn't seen you before." She holds her hand out, "I'm Suzuki Erity."

"Miya Atsumu, you can call me Atsumu." He reluctantly shakes her hand. "You the welcomin' committee or somethin'?"

Suzuki snorts and shakes her head, "I guess you could say that. I like talking to the new people so they don't get scared off by Ito-san." She continues when Atsumu raises a questioning eyebrow, "Old lady in the corner. Sweet, means well, a tad too enthusiastic."

Atsumu snickers, grinning a bit as he turns back to Suzuki. "You're not like the others here."

"Oh?"

"You seem... not sad." 

The woman laughs, shaking her head. "Nah. I'm just well adjusted. They'll all get there too, eventually. Not many of them have been coming for very long."

Atsumu wants to say something more, but before he could they were both ushered toward the chair circle by the elderly woman Suzuki had pointed out. He groans as he sits down, anxiously bouncing his leg as he looked around the circle.

The guy next to him in the circle seemed... very familiar. After a moment of staring, Atsumu's stomach dropped with realization. It was Sakusa Kiyoomi. Of course out of everyone on the team, it was _that_ bastard who saw him here. He didn't have much time to wallow in dread, though, because it was then that Ito clapped her hands together from her seat in the circle.

"Good evening, everyone!" The elderly woman called out, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled brightly. "We have a new face or two in the circle, and as always we'll start off with introducing ourselves. If you'll give us your full name, your diagnosis, an outlet-something like music or a sport that helps you feel better-and anything else you'd like us to know about you! Suzuki, will you start us off?"

"Yes, Ito-san," Suzuki stands up and clears her throat. "My name is Suzuki Erity, I'm anorexic. My outlet is, ironically, baking." She laughs quietly, "I'm about eight months in recovery, and I guess that's it. We'll be going clockwise so..." she nods to the man next to her, "You're next."

Atsumu zones out after that, picking at the loose strings on his jeans until Sakusa stands. He glances over, only half listening at first. 

The man fidgeted with his fingers, his voice coming out in a bored drone. "I'm Sakusa Kiyoomi, I have obsessive compulsive disorder, and my main outlet is volleyball, I s'pose. I play for the MSBY jackals."

Atsumu forced himself not to stare at Sakusa as he sat down. It was his turn, then, and he hurriedly rose to his feet, knocking his chair back a couple inches in the process. "My name is Miya Atsumu, accordin' to the paperwork I have bipolar depression. Call me your manic pixie dream boy, I guess," he laughs awkwardly, hands shoved in his pockets. "Uh, my outlet is also volleyball. And... I also play for MSBY." He looks down and makes eye contact with Sakusa, giving the man a slight grin before sinking back into his chair.

Somehow, Atsumu manages to zone out again after that. He absently bounces his knee, eyes glazed over until he vaguely noted they were doing the taking turns thing again. He tuned in just long enough to hear what they were supposed to be saying, and had to resist the urge to scoff when he did. There was nothing actually wrong with him, so what was he supposed to say when they want to know about 'mental struggles and successes'?

They'd started with someone new, so by the time Atsumu tuned in it was Suzuki's turn. 

"I've been a little tempted to go back to past behaviors lately, so I suppose that's a struggle," she starts, "But that does lead into my success! I think it's been tempting lately because of the weight I've finally started to put back on."

Atsumu was dim at his best, but he wasn't _that_ stupid. He knew that was probably a pretty big step for the woman, so he clapped along with everyone else. It was kinda cool, listening to the people after her talk about bad things only to bury them with good ones. That was something Atsumu could get behind. 

Before he knew it, Sakusa was clearing his throat next to him. "I've been struggling with adjusting to my new apartment lately, new surfaces to keep clean. It's... hard, I guess. I have no idea who lived there before me, and I've been anxious anyways so it's worse than it would normally be. I'm dealing with it, though, it's _fine_. A success is... I had a friend over." For the first time that evening, Sakusa smiled. Or at least, Atsumu thought he was smiling. It was hard to tell beneath the mask, but his eyes definitely crinkled at the corners. "Granted, he was there to help me unpack and clean, but it was still an improvement."

Atsumu found himself clapping along with the others, staring absentmindedly at the space just next to Sakusa's head. He didn't register that this meant it was his turn until Ito's quiet "Whenever you're ready," interrupted his thoughts.

"Oh," he sat up and scratched at the back of his neck. "Right. Well... is.." his eyes darted over to Sakusa before he looked back down at the scuffed toe of his shoe. "Can I not, today? Is this like, a required thing?"

Ito eyes Atsumu for a moment before nodding with a sigh, "Very well, Miya-kun. We'll try again next week, yeah?"

The blond hums in response, staring down at his shoes until the next person was talking. Eventually the meeting ended, and everyone said some stupid prayer thing. 

"God, give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and grant me the wisdom to know the difference."

Atsumu thought that was a load of horse shit, not that he could say that out loud. He supposed, though, that something like that was to be expected of a meeting happening in a church. 

"Miya," when Atsumu zoned back in, everyone else was already standing and _mingling_. Sakusa was standing in front of him. "The fuck are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Omi-Omi." Atsumu chirped, grinning crookedly up at the other man before rising to his feet. "'Samu made me come."

Sakusa looked Atsumu up and down, lips pressed into a firm line. "C'mon," he finally said, "Let's go grab a drink."

"Really?" Atsumu's face lit up, "You wanna hang out with _me,_ Omi?"

"Don't make me regret it."

Atsumu nodded, trailing behind Sakusa as he started for the door. "Are you ready for practice to start back up?"

"Mm, I'm ready to see how much everyone's improved." Sakusa zipped his jacket up the rest of the way when they got outside, hands shoved in his pockets. 

"Do you get cold easily?" Asked Atsumu.

"Yes."

Sakusa seemed unwilling to answer any more questions, though Atsumu was buzzing with them. The blond reluctantly stopped asking him things, but he didn't stop talking. He babbled on about mindless things, if the other man was bothered by it, he didn't say anything. 

If there was one thing Atsumu was good it, it was talking. And so he talked, and talked, and talked some more. He was pleasantly surprised when Sakusa would make comments or ask simple questions that seemed to serve no purpose other than to send him spiraling into another ramble. He liked to talk about mindless things, like what he'd been watching on Netflix, or the cat that he's been leaving food out for outside his apartment, new volleyball techniques he's itching to try with someone; topics like these took little thought. He didn't have to address any thoughts that he was typically left with, and as such he would always welcome the opportunity to talk. Sometimes, when he was alone, he'd talk to himself. 

He didn't stop talking, in fact, until he and Sakusa had been sitting in the cafe they'd walked to for well over fifteen minutes. The only reason he'd stopped was the strange way Sakusa looked at him. 

"What is it?" Atsumu asked, frowning, "Have I got somethin' on my face?" Sakusa shook his head, and Atsumu's frown deepened, "Then why're you lookin' at me like that, Omi?"'

Sakusa sighs and sets his drink down, "I feel like I have to admit, I do have ulterior motives in asking you here."

"I figured," Atsumu slunk back in his seat, frown replaced with a bored expression as he twirled his straw. "What is it, then? You wanna set down ground rules for practice ahead of time? Tell me to forget I ever saw you at that meetin'? Tell me not to go back?"

"What? No, that's ridiculous." Sakusa's face twisted into an annoyed frown, "The opposite, actually. I think you should go back next week."

"That's unexpected," Atsumu blinks at the other man, eyes widened ever so slightly. "Why?"

"I know you, and I know you weren't planning on going once you got your brother off your back about it," Sakusa gave Atsumu a pointed look, "But I think you should keep going. There's a reason your brother wanted you to go, and I think you should. I know it seems stupid, and the whole church thing definitely is, but it does help."

"What's the whole church thing about, anyway?"

"I think it makes some people feel better," Sakusa begins, "To think that there's some bigger thing watching over them and caring about them personally. If you get your strength from someone else, then when you can't do it it's not because you're a failure, you just need to ask for more strength."

"I think it's dumb," Atsumu looks down at his cup, suddenly very interested in the details of his straw. "God ain't got nothin' to do with it. Suzuki-san getting better hasn't got nothin' to do with capital G God. If God has any part in any of it, it's whatever shitty thing happened to put those people in that situation. Gettin' better is their choice, gettin' worse isn't."

"I agree," it's quiet for a moment, Sakusa staring thoughtfully out the window to his left. "But who're we to take away what's giving them hope?" Atsumu just nods, and Sakusa watches him closely for a few seconds longer before clearing his throat, "Why don't you want to go back, Miya?"

"I just think it's stupid, I dunno," Atsumu says, folding his arms over his chest defensively and leaning back in his chair. Sakusa fixes him with a hard stare until Atsumu caves, evading eye contact as he speaks, "Fine, whatever. The others there, they all look so... _sad_. It's kinda suffocating. Like, it was kinda alright listening to them talk about the good things that for whatever reason mattered more than the bad, like I could handle that, ya know? But I don't know any of those people, Sakusa, I don't know any of em. But I know which ones have an alcohol problem, I know one of em lost her ma to cancer, I know one of em is apparently _like me_ but better, or some shit. It's suffocatin', I don't wanna know none of that. Even when they're not talkin' they got those big eyes, walkin' around like a bunch of glass dolls. I hate it."

"What if," Sakusa said after a long moment, "We did this after every meeting?"

"Whattaya mean?"

"What if, after every meeting, we go to a cafe or bar or wherever and we talk. We can unpack stuff from the meeting, if you want, or you can just sit there and ramble. I'll even let you ask a question or two." Sakusa looked bored, but there was something genuine in his eyes that made Atsumu realize he was being serious about this.

"You really want me to go that badly?" Atsumu asked, eyes flickering between Sakusa's.

"I want our team's setter to take care of his mental health so that he doesn't have some breakdown in the middle of the season. And I think that means attending these meetings. So yes, I want you to go that badly." Sakusa held his hand out, "Deal?"

Atsumu nodded slowly, "You don't have to shake my hand, Omi, it's a deal."

"Thank you," Sakusa mumbled, letting out a relieved breath. "It's not that it's _your_ hand, I just-"

"I know," Atsumu shrugged, "It's cool. My world isn't gonna fall apart because of a handshake, I'm not Draco fuckin' Malfoy."

Sakusa laughs at that, and Atsumu feels a strange sense of accomplishment. 

They went their separate ways after that, and two days later their first practice was held. Atsumu considered that practice, and the ones that followed, undeniable successes. Everyone had improved individually, and now it was time for them to improve as a team. 

Sakusa worked on receiving Atsumu's newest serve, Hinata was progressively gaining more control over his aim, and Atsumu felt absolutely _invigorated_. He missed this, playing with his team. Sure, they'd gotten together for fun during the off-season, but there was no comparing to the real thing. There was nothing that could compare to the pride that welled in Atsumu's chest when his captain told him he'd done well, or when he tossed to Hinata and the kid looked at him like he'd done something really amazing, and there was absolutely no comparing to the subtle ways Sakusa would encourage him. Sakusa's encouragement meant the most out of everyone, because he didn't give it unless it was earned. So when Atsumu would get a slight nod from the man, or a hand pressed to the small of his back or between his shoulder blades in passing, it meant that he was doing well enough to _really_ deserve praise. In short, Atsumu was on top of the world. 

Until he wasn't.

It happened all at once and without warning. One day, Atsumu was at his best, all beaming smiles and minimal snark. The next morning he didn't wake up. He didn't sleep through his alarm, no, he didn't wake up in the sense that he'd not been to sleep. He supposed he did have some warning, he'd been more sensitive lately, more prone to getting agitated at little things in his free time. He'd paid it no mind, however, and chalked it up to just getting used to his schedule again. He'd been feeling so good, in fact, that he had stopped taking his medicine. That was his mistake.

That night that he couldn't get to sleep, he stayed up thinking. He had a kalimba that he played when his thoughts wouldn't shut down. He sat on his rug, back pressed against his closet door as he plucked out notes. It relaxed him, helped him sort through his thoughts and emotions when they were all over the place. He lost track of time at some point, because the next thing he knew it was thirty minutes before his alarm was set to go off. He wasn't shocked, nor was he upset. All he did was set the small instrument on its shelf, disable his alarm so that it wouldn't go off, and got ready for the day. Then, as soon as he was dressed, he left for his morning run. 

Running. That was another thing that helped him collect his thoughts. Well, he didn't so much collect them as he did scoop them up and drop them in a box labeled 'deal with it later' but it was more helpful than doing nothing and staying overwhelmed. 

It was odd, though, he didn't feel tired. Not physically, at least. Even though he'd been up all night, Atsumu didn't feel tired at all. Not even when he finished his run and trudged up to his apartment, not when he got in the shower and stared at the tiles on the wall as water rushed over him, not when he ate a quick breakfast, and not even when he went to practice. 

It was obvious something was wrong, to some degree. Everyone could see it, though no one commented. It was obvious in the way his grin had twisted into a lazy smirk every time someone complimented him, in the way he brushed Hinata off with some backhanded comment that, naturally, had no effect on the younger man. Even the way Atsumu picked a fight with Sakusa was different. Typically it was mindless pestering that led into meaningless arguments, but that day every comment Sakusa made set Atsumu on edge. He was fine, other than those small things. Physically, he was at peak performance. He was able to compartmentalize everything he felt and work with his team, even with all the snarky comebacks and how the smallest things seemed to agitate him into clenched fists and petty insults.

Atsumu didn't sleep that night either. He felt guilty, because of the way he'd been acting all day. And he was confused, _so_ confused. He didn't know why he was feeling like he was, didn't know why the smallest things were upsetting him, and it fucking sucked. He spent the whole night plucking away at his kalimba in his closet, having dragged blankets and a pillow in there despite knowing he wouldn't be sleeping. Eventually, he stood and stretched. He got ready for the day even earlier than he had the day before, started running even earlier-though he didn't end any earlier than he always did. He just ran longer, until the time he usually returned home. 

He was fine, of course. He had no reason not to be. There was nothing wrong with him, he told himself even as he slid down the wall of his shower. Everyone has sitting down in the shower days, this was just one of his. 

It was a cycle Atsumu was familiar with. Though, just because it was to be expected didn't mean it sucked any less. That day didn't go any better than the one before, although he did at least avoid situations he _knew_ wouldn't end well for him. 

Sakusa was the only one, other than Hinata, who willingly approached Atsumu that day. He was the only one who spoke to him after practice, a feat not even Hinata attempted. He'd gone to remind Atsumu of their meeting that night, which Atsumu had no intention of attending. 

He had no intention of attending, and yet four hours later, there he was. In front of the church building three minutes before the meeting was supposed to start. With an exaggerated sigh, he walked in and took the familiar path down to the meeting room. He took his usual seat next to Sakusa, introduced himself when it was his turn, and spent the rest of the time staring off into space and chewing on the skin of his thumb. 

"Miya-kun?"

Atsumu looked up at the sound of his name, locking eyes with Ito. "Hm?"

"Do you want to talk this week, or should we move on again?" Her voice was soft, gentle. Atsumu thought for a moment before letting out a sigh. 

"I'll talk this week," he mumbled, staring down at his hands folded in his lap. "Struggle this week is... existing." He snorts, shifting in his seat as he elaborates, "Everything was fine, _great_ , even. Then it just... I dunno. Went to shit, didn't it?" His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as he glances nervously at Sakusa, "I uh, I don't know why I'm like this? Not even really sure what _this_ is, honestly. Everythin' was goin' so well, then one night I couldn't get to sleep. I tried, and I just _couldn't_. I haven't slept since then, so it's been two nights without sleep, now. And I've been on edge, but not in a sleep-deprived way I-I know what that feels like and it's not this. I just get so _mad_ so easily, and I don't know why but I hate it. And when I'm not mad or sad, I'm either not feeling anything or I'm king of the world. There's no balance, it's freaky and I don't like it."

"You said you're diagnosed bipolar, Miya-kun, do you mind if I ask if you've been taking your medication?"

"Ah," Atsumu smiles sheepishly, running a hand through his hair, "I usually take it every day, but I missed a day or two. Didn't do it on purpose, obviously, I'm not dumb."

Ito smiles and shakes her head, "The medicine can't help you if you don't take it. Set an alarm on your phone, and maybe pick up some melatonin to try and get to sleep. Can we hear your success of the week?"

"I uh," Atsumu frowns, eyebrows furrowed, "I don't think I had one."

A man Atsumu didn't know spoke up, "You left your house today."

Then a woman, "You went to practice."

Suzuki, "Did you eat?" Atsumu nodded and she smiled, "You ate today."

"You got dressed today!"  
"You talked to friends today."  
"You put shoes on and everything."  
"You're alive today."  
"You remembered a jacket."  
"You're having an _awesome_ hair day."

It was almost overwhelming, all the people in the circle complimenting Atsumu on achieving the most _basic_ of tasks. It was nice, though. Some of those things were just so fucking hard when he was in a downswing, and it was nice to hear someone acknowledging that. 

"You came here," Sakusa said next to him, bumping their knees together. "Even though I know you wanted to stay home and wallow."

"You spoke today," Ito said, "With all of us. You opened up, and look around. Nothing bad happened, the world didn't swallow you whole, what did happen was much better. Do you see, Miya-kun? How you've had so many successes just today?"

Atsumu smiled despite himself, giving a slight nod. "Yeah, thanks."

Warmth spread through Atsumu's chest and made a home for the rest of the meeting. Even though he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again tonight, even though he knew he'd probably be just as much of an asshole tomorrow, Atsumu felt like maybe he would make it through it all. 

That night, Sakusa and Atsumu went to the cafe they'd gone to the first time Atsumu went to a meeting. They didn't talk much, but at the end of the night, before they parted ways, Sakusa stopped Atsumu by grabbing his wrist. 

"What is it, Omi-Omi?" Atsumu asked, turning back to Sakusa. 

"Try and sleep tonight," Sakusa said, "And pick up some melatonin tomorrow. Take your fucking medicine, dumbass. I'm going to start texting you to remind you about it if you skip it again."

Atsumu grinned, eyebrow quirked, "Are you concerned for me, Omi-Omi? How cute~"

Sakusa rolled his eyes, dropping Atsumu's wrist unceremoniously, "Shut up, asshole. But, uh," he looks away, worrying his bottom lip, "I am glad you went tonight. And that you talked. You don't talk to me about that shit, and I bet you don't talk to your brother either, so I'm glad you talked to the group."

"I wouldn't have gone if it weren't for you, Omi." 

"Really?" Sakusa looked back at Atsumu with a frown. 

"Yeah!" Atsumu shoved his hands in his pockets and started to turn around, "Didn't want you on my ass about it tomorrow. I had to go."

"You're such a brat," Sakusa says with a snort, shoving Atsumu away. "See you at practice."

Atsumu waves, grinning as he walks off. 

When he gets home he goes through his nightly routine, and when he goes to his bedroom and checks his phone he has two texts from the same contact.

 **From: Omi-Omi**   
Take your medicine, cretin  
If you're an asshole tomorrow, I'll verbally abuse you after practice

 **To: Omi-Omi**   
i can be a real ass   
don't stop talkin to me if i say somethin especially stupid

 **From: Omi-Omi**   
First of all: you're stupid all the time, I'm immune  
Second: Heracles by Euripedes, line 1219

Atsumu frowns at his phone and gets up, walking to the bookshelf in his room. He searches through the titles and plucks _Heracles_ off the shelf. He flips through the pages until he gets to a page with line 1220 marked, then looks at the line just before it.

"Are you afraid mere words would pollute me?"

He blinks at the text, frown still firm in place as he picks up his phone to message Sakusa back. 

**To: Omi-Omi**   
first of all: i'm not stupid all the time  
second: how'd ya know i've got a copy of heracles?

 **From: Omi-Omi**   
You've mentioned it before.   
Try and sleep tonight

 **To: Omi-Omi**   
yessir   
night omi

The next message Sakusa sent made Atsumu get up and find another book from his shelf. This time it was _The Odyssey_.

"There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep."

 **To: Omi-Omi**   
you did Not make me flip through the fucking odyssey for a fuckin greeting card sentiment

 **From: Omi-Omi**   
(:  
Rest well, Miya. 


	2. road trip (except not really) part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ma•ni•a  
>  _noun_  
>  Mental illness marked by periods of great excitement or euphoria, delusions, and overactivity. Commonly associated with bipolar depression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bye i'm a literally clown i'm so sorry i hit bad writer's block with this one and i refuse to halfass anything so it's been sitting in my drafts for a While. finally this morning i was blessed with the will to write, took one look at what i had before, and promptly deleted the full chapter and rewrote it. like i said, i don't halfass anything lmao. for once i'm caught up in all my classes, so i was able to sit down and plow through the full chapter.

"Omi-Omi," Atsumu called out, throwing a rock at Sakusa's window. "C'mon, I been out here for twenty minutes!"

Finally, the window slides open and a familiar mop of curls pushes through. "Miya, what, and I mean this in the most _offensive_ way possible, the fuck. The sun's not even completely up yet- and you're going to wake my neighbors. Why are you even here?"

Instead of answering Sakusa's (completely valid, thank you very much) question, Atsumu grins and shrugs. "C'mon, Omi-kun, just come down here and get in the fuckin' truck."

"What? No! I don't know where we're going, for all I know you're going to take me to some field and slaughter me for helping Osamu-san make you go to group therapy."

"Well," Atsumu laughs and rocks back on his heels. "Guess yer just gonna have to trust me." After a few years of being called a country bumpkin and other annoying comments about Atsumu's accent, he typically masks it fairly successfully. In the mornings, however, he doesn't usually take the time to think about not letting the drawl sneak into his words. Mornings were never meant for such bothersome things, after all.

Sakusa is silent for a long moment, fixing Atsumu with the same scrutinizing gaze he wears on the court. Eventually, Sakusa evidently makes a decision as his expression softens, if only slightly. "Okay," he says, "I'll come down. Just- give me time to get ready."

Atsumu gives a double thumbs up, grinning crookedly as he walks backwards to get back in his truck and wait for his teammate. (Acquaintance? Friend?)

The truck hums as he cranks it up, the radio coming back to life. Atsumu drums his fingers against the steering wheel excitedly, eyes darting around the small space around him. Where all this energy came from, he's not sure. He's been awake since the previous day at approximately 4:30 A.M. and by all logical assumptions, should be feeling like absolute shit right about now. Still, he needed to get the energy out somehow, and the run didn't work.

Atsumu had called Osamu first, asking him to go with him for a drive to let off steam, but his twin had promptly called him an idiot and asked if he was off his medication. Which was a rude and entirely uncalled for question, mind you. Atsumu has been _excellent_ at remembering his medicine. (Or rather, Sakusa is excellent at verbally abusing Atsumu every night until he takes his medicine.) The point stands that Osamu's assumption was out of pocket, Atsumu thinks, and he deserved an apology. What did that even mean? Obviously Atsumu's been taking his medicine, there was nothing _wrong_ with him that morning. He felt great, actually. (Some may call this feeling of euphoria a symptom of mania, Atsumu is inclined to disagree. Maybe he's just like this, maybe everyone else needs to learn to live a little more.) Lost in his thoughts, the twenty minutes it takes for Sakusa to emerge from his apartment complex feels more like a few seconds, and as Atsumu is snapped from his train of thought he greets Sakusa with a wide, lop-sided grin. 

"G'mornin' Omi-Omi. Lookin' radiant as always." Atsumu sing-songs as Sakusa gets in his truck, shooting the blond a withering glare. 

"There's a reason Osamu-san is the better twin. I bet _he_ doesn't show up to people's houses at ass o'clock an demand their company."

"Yeah, but you know what, Omi?"

Sakusa narrows his eyes, but indulges Atsumu after his seatbelt is on. "What?"

Atsumu turns his head to fix Sakusa with a boyish grin, the kind that makes you think maybe he knows about some amazing thing the rest of the world is missing out on. "Yer sittin' next to me right now, not Samu. I'll take that as a win."

Sakusa rolls his eyes with a snort, turning his head slightly to hide the small, amused twitch of his lips. Atsumu sees anyway, because he's Miya fucking Atsumu. "I don't think my company is a prize Osamu-san is after, though."

"Maybe not, but," Atsumu's grin doesn't falter as he pulls out of the apartment complex's parking lot. "He couldn't get it if he tried, so therefore I'm the superior twin."

"Not sure that's the defining trait of a superior sibling," Sakusa mutters, looking out the window. They fall into silence, then, (save for Atsumu's cheerful humming, of course) until a few minutes later when Sakusa clears his throat. "How do you know?"

"Yer gonna have to be more specific, Omi, I know a lot of things." Atsumu smirks, pointedly ignoring the glare he received in return. 

"I mean," Sakusa huffs. "How do you know I wouldn't do something like this with Osamu-san? Maybe I like him far better than you."

Atsumu thinks this over for a moment, then shakes his head. "Nah. I know you like me better. Even if you didn't, yer more comfortable with me than Samu. You exist in my presence all the time, ya don't gotta get used to a whole new person's little quirks. You hate that part of gettin' to know someone."

Sakusa's eyes widen slightly before narrowing, brows furrowed as he studies Atsumu's profile. "Whatever..." he mutters, looking down at his hands in his lap as he picks at his fingers. 

"Ooomi," Atsumu drawls, eyeing Sakusa's hands. "Yer supposed to be kickin' that habit."

The other just hums in acknowledgement, lips pressed into a firm line. "Sometimes I hate that you go to group therapy with me."

"Sometimes I hate it, too." Then, just as Sakusa began to fear they were about to have a Moment: "'Specially when it's nighttime and I got you up my ass about takin' my medicine."

Sakusa glares and shifts in the seat, turning away from Atsumu as much as possible. "Whatever, as if knowing it pisses you off is going to make me do it less. Now shut up, I'm gonna take a nap."

"Sure thing, Omi."

As Sakusa drifted off, Atsumu turned up the radio and hummed along, still drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. At some point after the sun fully comes up, he rolls his window down and lets the breeze whip through his hair. He loves drives like this, not on his own, though. Driving on his own leads to things that would _definitely_ not be approved of by his therapist. He needs someone to ground him, remind him that wherever he drives to, he has to drive back from. Really there's nothing complex about reminding him, all he needed was a presence next to him, someone he knew he needed to get back home. He could convince himself that he didn't need to go back if he wanted to stay somewhere, but not even Atsumu's asshole of a brain could come up with a reasonable excuse to kidnap Sakusa. If said man were aware of these thoughts, he would most certainly object. 'Miya, you already kidnapped me.' Atsumu would be undeterred as always, of course. It wasn't kidnapping, he'd argue, if he planned to take him back. Then Sakusa would frown in that way that he always does when Atsumu's back on his bullshit. This is all a completely hypothetical interaction, of course. Conceived entirely by Atsumu's mind, (or perhaps someone else's? Who's to say what ideas truly belong to whom, certainly not Atsumu. Certainly not when there's so many outside interferences in the process by which the average human develops a thought. Though, that's probably spiraling a bit too much for what was meant to be a short moment of consideration, but Atsumu never does anything halfway, suppose overthinking shouldn't be any different.) and for the sole purpose of keeping himself entertained while staring at the unchanging terrain ahead of him. 

Soon enough, a sign catches his attention, marking an exit and the town it will inevitably lead to. The name is familiar, Atsumu thinks maybe some friend at some point had gone. Without much consideration, he takes the exit. He doesn't go to the town, though, due to a last minute decision. He'd already heard of that town, he knew a person who'd been there. The wonder is stripped completely, even if he himself has never been there. So he keeps driving, and eventually his efforts pay off in the form of a worn sign, welcoming the two to a town Atsumu had never heard of. Atsumu supposes the sign would have once been considered charming, but now its paint is chipped and part of the kanji is missing.

"Where the hell are we?" A groggy voice asks from the passenger seat.

"Doesn't matter, we're stoppin' here." Atsumu beams at the scenery, watching as a child and his dog run down the side of the road. "You're hungry, right? We'll grab breakfast. Or brunch, I haven't checked the time in a while. I don't know."

"Hm," Sakusa yawns and stretches as much as one can stretch in the cab of Atsumu's worn pick-up. "You're doing that annoying thing with your mouth."

"You mean speaking?" Atsumu asks, quirking up an eyebrow. "So _mean_ , Omi-kun."

"No- well yes but that's not what I meant. You always try and cover up your accent, it's annoying. I've literally known you since high school, sorta, you're not going to hide the fact that you have an accent from me. Besides," Sakusa fixes Atsumu with a blank stare. "You don't have to try and impress me, I'm already irrevocably disgusted."

And Atsumu laughs, because he knows it's a joke. Because he knows Sakusa, whether he's willing to admit it or not. He's spent countless hours analyzing Sakusa's every move on the court, and certain behaviors cross over. Sakusa smiles a small, private smile, because he knows Atsumu's not laughing at him. Because Atsumu knows when Sakusa's joking. If he were thinking about it, Sakusa would have categorized this as one of the dreaded Moments he'd heard so much about. He wasn't thinking about it, though, because it didn't _feel_ like a Moment. It wasn't sappy or serious, it was honestly kind of stupid. Moments evidently aren't defined by the perceived hallmark-ness of an individual occurrence, but by small moments that lead into the ones you inevitably remember them by. 

This moment leads into Atsumu stopping in a parking lot and twisting toward Sakusa, still smiling that stupid, wonderful smile of his. That leads into Sakusa turning slightly to face him, which leads into their arms touching, which at first doesn't lead to anything but then Sakusa's mind catches up to the movement and suddenly it all feels _wrong_. But it's only wrong for a moment, there's only panic for mere seconds before Atsumu was pulling away and _apologizing_. There's a new type of discomfort settling in Sakusa's stomach when Atsumu has to go and open that big mouth of his, but Sakusa thinks maybe this is one he doesn't mind. 

"I showered, well I mean, obviously I showered. Contrary to popular belief I'm not a slob. But I just mean- I really did. Like, my hair was still wet when I showed up at yer apartment. And when you shower in the locker rooms yer clothes are always in a bag and I heard ya tellin' Shou-kun about it one day, and you explained it and I thought it was stupid at first, but then it kinda made sense because- you know- clothes touch yer skin all the fuckin' time, so it makes sense to not want them to touch anything else- 'specially in a locker room or whatever." Atsumu is rambling and he knows it, but there's a shocked expression on Sakusa's face and a hint of something he's not ready to look at and really, there's nothing Miya Atsumu is better at than talking. "So I thought if today was one of the harder days, you might get in yer head a little bit and I do _not_ want yer therapist to know my name so-" Atsumu takes a moment to catch his breath, tapping his thumbs against his thigh anxiously. "I did the bag thing, that's literally all I needed to say." He doesn't add the reason _why_ he didn't just say that, doesn't admit that it's because he was nervous. The fact in and of itself isn't anything major, except for the fact that to Atsumu it was. Typically when he was in these moods, he never felt anxious. Paranoid? Maybe sometimes. But never anxious. Sakusa always did have a way of forcing Atsumu to face reality, though. It didn't help that said man was uncomfortably silent after Atsumu's rambling.

Sakusa spends a long moment just staring at Atsumu, then his shocked, scrutinizing expression softens into something indecipherable. "You did the bag thing..." He echoes, shaking his head. "Where are we going?"

After letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, Atsumu pulls his key from the ignition. "Lets look around the shops and find a restaurant somewhere."

The two get out of the truck together and start down the sidewalk, looking around idly until Atsumu gasps and stops in his tracks. "Omi! Look!" It was an old-fashioned toy store, a large train set on display that apparently held Atsumu's undivided attention. "Can we go in?"

"You know, I was kidding when I said you were a child." Sakusa mumbles, lips twitching up into a smirk. "But now you're really convincing me of it, Miya." Atsumu puffs out his cheeks in an annoyed pout and starts to keep walking before Sakusa grabs his wrist, "Where are you going? I thought you wanted to go in."

"Not if yer just gonna make fun of me," Atsumu huffs, staring down at Sakusa's hand with more scrutiny than what was strictly necessary. Can you blame him though? It's Sakusa fuckin' Kiyoomi, president of the Atsumu Is Nathty club. And yet he had a firm grip on Atsumu's wrist, and the strangest thing was that the touch didn't feel foreign at _all_. Sakusa's slim fingers wrap around Atsumu's wrist easily, and his hands are cold but not in a bad way, not really. He's so focused on this unexpected touch that he almost doesn't hear what Sakusa says.

"I'm not going to make fun of you, too much. If you want to go in there, we'll go in there. So let's go."

Before Atsumu could say anything more, Sakusa released his wrist and walked into the store without him. Atsumu stared at the empty space where Sakusa had been for a single moment before grinning and following behind the man. 

The shop was beautiful, Atsumu thought. It felt like home, not his home, but someone's. Homes were funny like that, when someone carves a home out of a place, it's evident in every detail; every creaking floorboard and chip in the paint; every marking on the walls and every hole in the wall where something used to hang. It smelled like cedar and fresh-baked something, and the _toys_ ; Atsumu almost felt like a child again, looking around at the shelves filled with what were apparently hand-made toys. The train set he'd seen through the window catches his eye, and next thing Atsumu knew he was wandering toward the setup. The actual train sets and spare train-cars were in what looked to be repurposed gift boxes beneath the table where the big train set sat. He crouched down when he got to the table, squatting so he could look closely at every detail of the wooden town that the train circled. It was, evidently, a model of the town they were in. There was even a little water tower, Taishi written on it in hand-painted lettering. Atsumu couldn't help but wonder if the little people in front of the wooden shops were modeled after real people, he likes to think they are. 

"What are you looking at?" Asks a soft voice next to him.

Atsumu blinks out of his thoughts and turns his head to see Sakusa bent to look over his shoulder. "Ah. Me 'n Samu used to have a train set sorta like this. It was my favorite of our toys when I was little, I'd sit for hours. This one's nice, all hand-made." 

"My grandpa made it," Sakusa and Atsumu both jump at the sound of a voice behind them. When the two look over their shoulders, they find a young man smiling fondly down at the train-set. "Long time ago, when I was ten, so... seven years ago?"

Atsumu and Sakusa share a look that properly communicates their feelings of _Oh, a teenager, hopefully he's not a shit like you_ , then turn their attention back to the boy as they slowly raise to their feet. "It's real nice, he did a good job. He own this place?"

The boy nods, offering a proud grin. "Yep! My dad doesn't want to run this place, so some day _I'm_ gonna get to." 

"Tama, are you being kind to our guests?" An older man walks in, then, coming up behind the boy (Tama?) and resting a hand on his back. "Good morning, you two."

Atsumu has already begun to wander away aimlessly, so Sakusa yanks him back by the back of his shirt. "Good morning, sir. You have a very nice store."

"I like the train set," Atsumu says in place of a greeting, impatiently shifting his weight from one foot to the other as his eyes dart around the shop. 

The old man eyes Atsumu with an amusement that he does Not like, but before he can successfully weigh the morals of picking a fight with an old man, Sakusa was bidding the two men goodbye and dragging Atsumu out of the shop. 

"No fair," Atsumu whines, wrenching out of Sakusa's grasp. "I wasn't done lookin'."

"Yes you were," Sakusa replies decidedly. "Where to now?"

Somehow, Atsumu was already halfway across the street, at first Sakusa just sighed and rolled his eyes, starting across the street to catch up. But then Atsumu was stopping in the middle of the fucking road, and honestly what the _fuck_. He was on his phone, _his fucking phone_ , and there was a car coming. Sakusa groans and speeds up, grabbing Atsumu by the hand and pulling him the rest of the way across. They reach the sidewalk a second before the car passes through the spot where Atsumu had been standing.

"What the fuck?" Sakusa asks, jaw slack. "Did no one teach you to look both ways before you cross a street? You're like a fucking toddler, I bet you were a leash kid."

"First of all, yes I was a leash kid and so was Samu. Second, I would have been _fine_ , Omi, if ya wanted an excuse to hold my hand you coulda just asked." Atsumu bats his eyelashes teasingly, snickering at the tinge of pink he was rewarded with as Sakusa lets go of his hand as though he'd been burned. 

"Miya do you not fucking get it? You could have gotten hit. Are you fucking stupid? You don't stop in the middle of the road for your fucking _phone-_ "

"Omi," Atsumu laughs, shaking his head as he finishes up whatever it was he'd deemed so important before shoving his phone back in his pocket. "It's fine. I wouldn't have gotten hit, I've got it all under control."

Sakusa looks at him like he'd grown a third head. "You've got what under control? Because it's not other people's driving, and it's not the universe, you don't-reality is not hooked around your little finger, Miya. You are not invincible." Atsumu's smile falters slightly at the last sentence, and Sakusa continues. "You can get hurt just like the rest of us, and you've got a responsibility to your friends and to your team. Imagine how the guys would feel if their setter went and got hit by a car on his one day off. Show some fucking common sense for _once_."

"I don't-" Atsumu frowns, eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not... I wouldn't have gotten hit, Omi. I just know it, alright?"

A thoughtful look overtakes Sakusa's features as he studies Atsumu's face, then, eventually, he relents with a sigh. "Yeah, fine. Whatever. Let's just go in the fucking store."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for taking the time to read! Kudos and comments are always appreciated!  
> come scream with/at me on tumblr dot com: polaroidsandpeachtea
> 
> this one was short but I knew I was cutting the chapter in half and that felt like a good place to divide it? idk

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read! Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Come scream with/at me on tumblr dot com, url is: polaroidsandpeachtea
> 
> i am also in the middle of a downswing lmao. this is Coping~ but uh anyways, i'll be working on this fic in my free time between classes so probably at least one update a week. i've gotten really into sakuatsu lately and yeah,, will probably also post a pure fluff fic of them bc this one's all about ~growth~


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